From London to Cairo with love
by kawaiiokama
Summary: set a little after the events of the series, marik sets out to visit bakura in London, and then vice versa. fluff, mild yaoi themes, some language. twoshot. try it, you might like it. and if you dont, you just wasted ten minutes of your life. bummer.
1. London

LONDON TO CAIRO

With love.

A little two-shot shounen-ai. Marik and ryou bakura, set a few years after the yamis. It's a bit hurried, but as you all know soft fluffy stories are not my forte. Don't expect to much from this and I wont expect to much from you. Kay kay?

I don't own yu-gi-oh or the characters mentioned in this fic. Nor do I own a pair of skates, London city, or a moonhopper. Though I would really like a moonhopper.

A/N when I refer to 'marik' in this fic, I am NOT referring to any yami. Im talking about the actual Marik Ishtar. Usually people refer to him as 'malik' but I don't see the point when there is no yami to confuse him with. Ergo malik= superfluous and marik = the once hikari of yami marik. No confusion, I hope. ^^

* * *

><p>It's a chilling feeling. Numbing and terrifying to think about.<p>

I've never done anything quite like this before, and I know I shouldn't. Because if I let him get to me once I will let him get to me twice. And then three times. Until I am merely a fading shadow of my former self, following him hopelessly, letting him do whatever he wants with my body and my life.

Yet I let him guide me. I let him guide me here, and now I was right in the middle of it, hopelessly lost, and terrified.

"RYOU! Help me!"

"Relax Marik! It's okay!"

Smiling sweetly, Ryou Bakura reached forward. Delicate hands clothed in fluffy white wool gloves adjusted my scarf; I squirmed uncomfortably and knocked his hand away.

"Don't fix my scarf, help me!"

"You are fine! Look, you're standing and everything."

"Why did I even agree to this?"

Ryou shrugged and tucked his long white hair behind his ear. In the semi light it looked silken, reflecting the blue and white and pink lights that shone upon it. Darkness accentuated the fall, tumbling over his shoulders and in his face, casting shadows and combing lowlights through his mane. His gentle face eased into a small smile, dark warm eyes fell on me, noting my expression of discontent. "I dunno… I thought you wanted to experience my hometown."

"I didn't realise your hometown was so… cold." Shaking, a little off balance, I cast a glance down to the blades strapped to my feet. I swayed a little, and threw my arms out so I wouldn't topple over.

It was a frozen evening, Christmas crouching just around the corner. Snow fell from a darkened sky, lighting on the surface of a frozen pond before being whisked away again by the slashing silver skates of people taking to the ice. Sparkling Lights were strung from skeletal, snow covered trees. Beyond the wrought iron gates of the park, London city glimmered and sparkled clear and jewely in the cool blue darkness.

"Only in the winter."

"I chose a shit time to visit…" I grumbled under my breath and took a small, shaky step forward on my skates. The rest of that sentence was stolen from me as I stumbled; Ryou caught my arm with ease and hauled me to my feet again.

"Actually, winter is the most beautiful time of year." With a soft laugh, he released my arm and smoothed the thick dark blue sweater he wore. Decked out in several layers of wool and scarves, he looked much sweeter and cosier than I . It's hard to explain why, but wool and layers really suited Ryou, jeans, fluffy leg warmers, a scarf and ear muffs. He looked simply delectable. Gentle and wide eyed and warm. Whereas I was just an uncoordinated, puffy looking weirdo swaddled in too many jumpers and a pair of skates.

Looking around the frozen scene, at the couples dancing on the ice and the way the snow glittered in the light, I suppose it was sort of beautiful. Maybe. It wasn't particularly ugly. So I shrugged non-comitially and he grinned.

"You look so out of place here though. And stop shivering. Once you get the hang of it you will warm up."

"Will not." I folded my arms and swayed a little. It wasn't that I was particularly cold. Actually, I was fairly warm. But I just felt so awkward! That and the fact that somewhere, in the back of my mind, the fear the ice could crack I may go plummeting into a lake of ink black freezing cold water below lingered like a bad smell. It didn't help my feelings for this so called hobby at all. In fact it rather put me off.

"Oh sure you will. Come on. Give me your hands." He held out his palms to me and I took them nervously. Through the wool of his gloves and the leather of mine, I was astonished I could still feel some of his body heat. Or at least a ghost of it. He must have felt it too, because he blinked in surprise.

"You have warm hands."

"So do you."

"True."

God I loved his accent! When I had last said goodbye to the boy in Japanese, it was only a light, barley noticeable lilt in his voice, but now I was hearing him speak in his native English and every single syllable he spoke was permeated by an incredible fullness. The gentle slant of his words, sweeping to a rich neat little phrase. Every single letter was a poem in its own right.

Amazing.

"Right." He looked down at my feet to make sure my skates were tied correctly; a skein of hair fell forward across his shoulder. "Let's go then, shall we?"

I nodded and slowly, carefully, he began to shuffle backward on his skates and pull me with him. The motion made me tremble a little, but I managed to stay balanced as we slid to the middle of the frozen pond.

"How you doing?"

"uh… okay." My legs shook and he pulled me further, the two of us glided toward the other side of the lake, and gradually we joined the mass of people circling around the edge in a clockwise flow. We were overtaken often, and several times I almost lost my footing, but smiling and laughing Ryou led me, weaving us carefully between skaters more skilled than I and bearing it without complaint when I squeezed his hand so tight I felt the bones in his fingers grind against each other. It didn't take long for me to get hot and breathless, without realising it we had speed up, and I was beginning to stand erect rather than slouched and bent legged.

"You're getting the hang of it, Marik." He wiggled the fingers of his left hand so I released them and slid around, so we were skating side by side. It completely threw me off again, I stumbled and fell sideways almost knocking him down too, but he grabbed my waist and propped me up again, letting out a sharp exclamation of laughter.

"Woah! Marik! Careful!"

"I'm fine! I'm fine, Ryou, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. "I'm okay, keep skating."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." My arm wound around his shoulder, all my weight on his small body, but he held me up well and the two of us resumed our shaky skate around the perimeter of the lake.

And the evening wore on.

I had never really known Ryou. Not really. We didn't meet in the most amiable of circumstances, and while I eventually had an opportunity to get to know Yugi and the rest of his friends, the host of the thief king evaded me even after reconciliation with the rest. From my blurry, hard to remember impression of his Yami, I never would have guessed that this sweet natured, gentle boy would linger when the darkness that held him was gone. I was glad, in that moment, that Honda had given me his contact details when I left Japan a month ago. Five years since those events, five years back in Egypt and one joyful reunion when I returned to Japan. But even though he was a stranger to me… the group looked slightly empty without him. Maybe we had gotten to know each other subliminally. Or perhaps it was because of these other, unspoken secrets we share.

The thief king.

My own demented mind.

Shaking hands had knocked on the wooden door, snow was falling then too, and nervous butterflies flapped in my gut. I entertained the possibility of turning and running. I mean, how odd must it have seemed to him. I was a stranger! Completely. Did he even know my face? That thought caught me for a moment, terror gripped me. It was actually entirely possible he didn't.

The sound of foot steps, a laugh from inside, and a blast of hot air when he answered.

Then silence.

"Marik?" the man frowned, leaning forward curiously. The glass of wine he held swirled lazily, red and sweet looking. "Marik Ishtar? What are you…?"

"uh… hello." I scratched my head awkwardly, a little numb. Had he always been this radiant?

"Bakura who is it?" a voice from inside. I shrunk back.

"Uh… it's a friend." He stepped aside and beckoned me inside. "Come in Marik. Please. Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Marik are you okay?" I was jolted out of my thoughts by his tug on my hand. The two of us had drifted apart, and now were skating hand in hand slowly around the lake. I hadn't even realised.

"hm? Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. Do you want to try skating by yourself?"

"um…" I slid across the ice to avoid a pair of kids skating straight at me and smiled in private delight when I realised I had done so without toppling over. He was right, this wasn't so hard when you got the hang of it. "Yeah, okay."

A sideways glance, I let my gaze linger on his for a split second longer than I should have, before looking away and dropping his hand.

The snow had stopped; the feeling of skating was not unlike flying into the clear beautiful night. Albeit slowly. Okay, flying was the wrong word. I wasn't flying so much yet, but I wondered how long it would take before I was. Like the rest of the people here sailing across the ice like birds in the sky.

"How long until I can go fast?" I asked, and Ryou pulled a 'I dunno' expression.

"As long as it takes I guess."

"oh." Dejected, I looked down to my clumsy feet finding their way on the ice. Ryou laughed and, terrifying me, kicked a foot back behind him and spun around in a wide arc.

"Woah! That was cool!" I turned to look at him, and glancing over his shoulder he skated backward back level with me again. A light giggle and he turned, dashing off over the ice. My jaw dropped in disbelief, and I mis-stepped, nearly falling face first into the snow. He was so _beautiful!_ His skating on the ice was smooth and liquid, he speed around the lake overtaking everyone with ease. He wasn't just flying, he was soaring.

Long white hair flew back behind him, the motion of his body was so seamless and fluid and breathtaking I couldn't stop staring. He was so confident on the ice, I felt envy dig in my gut. Envy and awe. I never would have dreamed that such a quiet, pleasant boy could be so dynamic, graceful and thrilling at the same time.

Adrenaline pumped as I watched, and before I realised what had happened he had passed me again, turning backward to laugh at my loose jaw as he sailed away.

"Come on, Marik, catch me!" his voice carried and people turned to look at me, the awkward foreigner padded with clothes and incompetent on his blades being beckoned by this glorious vision.

Once again, he swept past. "Come on!"

I scowled a little embarrassed that I couldn't up and dash after him on these goddamned skates.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" and I began the gruelling struggle forward. After a while, after being lapped by him another five or six times, I fell into a hesitant rhythm. Eventually I managed to pass a seven year old and her mother.

"Good going, you've almost made it around once."

His voice distracted me and I nearly fell down again.

"Ryou!"

Travelling slow now, cheeks flushed and hair in disarray, he slung an arm around my shoulder and let a small snicker escape his lips.

"Cutie!"

"shut up!" I huffed, folding my arms across my chest in agitation. "You think you're so great on your skates and your snow and everything… you wouldn't last a second in the desert!"

He nodded. "I doubt I would, but I'm here now, yes?" a hand pried my right arm from the furious knot against my breast, and gentle fingers laced with mine. "So let me show you what I love. Sound okay?"

Reluctantly, still scowling, I nodded. The corners of his lips tweaked, his grip on my hand tightened.

"Do you trust me, Marik?"

"I guess…"

"I'm glad."

And without a word of warning, before I could even blink, we were off.

My heart leapt from my chest to my throat, my stomach left lying on the ice behind me as he whisked me away.

Speeding past other skaters, I instinctively moved my feet in a running motion, in perfect sync with his. When we cornered, he guided me, one foot over the other, stepping into the curve and flying out again with ease. And it was easy. When I didn't think about it, it was as simple as breathing. My frantic run was replaced soon with a breezy push of my foot, and soon he wasn't guiding me any more. Soon our laced fingers were nothing more than affection.

Watching the world flash by in a blur of lights and people in coats and scarves and hats was thrilling on such a mad, primal level. The cold air whipping my face turned my cheeks numb, my chest was light and my feet were lighter. I was dancing on the air itself, blades of my skates cutting the ice with precision. And now we were going faster. He was speeding up and before I knew what had happened he had released my hand, spinning backward and grabbing both my hands so we faced each other.

"Ryou what are you doing!" I yelled over the scream of the wind.

"Skating!" he called back, drawing me closer. His hair was in my face, the speed was leaving me breathless and dizzy. When he stepped the corner backward I nearly fainted.

And then I tripped and fell forward into him, he yelped in shock and the two of us crashed to the ice with huge force.

I screamed as my body hit the hard cold surface, feeling the impact through all the clothes I wore, and we slid with a horrid screech of zippers and skates across the surface of the lake and into a snow bank on the edge. It was cold, wet, and my body was in agony. How fast had we been going? It felt as though we had been catapulted into that ice. My head was spinning, I had bitten my lip, and my wrist was aching dully. Bruised bone, maybe? I doubted it was broken, but the pain was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I was oddly light headed too, and the side of my leg was wet and warm.

"Oh god sorry Ryou!" my voice shook and I tried to sit up, noticing with a leap of my heart that my jeans had torn, and there was a massive graze on my thigh. The warm wetness seeping down my leg was my own blood.

"Ryou, are you okay?" my voice rose a few notes when I saw he was face down, still half on the ice. Some skaters had noticed us, and were beginning to glide over curious. He groaned and sat up.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Shaking arms pushed his slender frame up, and he raised his face. The lights behind him began to swim in my vision when I saw what had happened. He must have slid face first straight across the ice, because the whole left side of his cheek was skinned and bloody. It dripped down his neck and dyed his scarf a dark, dark red. It seeped into the snow and spotted the white with gore. "My face hurts though." He raised a cautious hand to his cheek and winced when his fingers brushed the injury.

"Oh no! Marik how bad is it?" he stared in horror at his bloody fingertips and I covered my mouth to stop from gagging. I hated blood so much.

"It's… pretty bad."

"Do you think it will scar?"

"I don't think it will scar… but there's a lot of-"

"Are you boys okay?" a helpful old lady bent down and peered at us closely. "Oh my, aren't you bleeding a lot, would you two like an ambulance?"

"No, no its okay." Ryou shook his head and brushed his hair out of his wound, it must have stung, because he screwed up his nose and made a soft noise. His hair too, was dark from the blood. "It'll be fine. Marik are you okay?"

I nodded slowly, testing my wrist. It was a little achey, but I would survive. And the gash just needed some bandage.

"Okay, well. I think now would be a good time to go back to mine, yeah?"

Another nod and his face broke into a smile. He had no trouble getting to his feet and waving other helpful skaters away, the hand he offered me didn't tremble.

I took it and he pulled me to my feet.

"I'm so sorry Ryou…"

"It's okay. Honestly. But, how was it? Before the fall?"

I blinked and looked into his wide, enthusiastic eyes. I remembered the feeling of flying, of cutting through the air and speeding into chilled eternity.

"It was… incredible."

"I told you," he supported me as we hobbled off the ice to the bench where we had cast our shoes. "Now, shall we go home? I will make you some tea and biscuits."

"Can I have coffee instead?" I asked, lowering myself onto the snowy seat. Cold and wet from the snow was beginning to seep onto my skin. He rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"Whatever you like. And hey, Marik?"

"Yeah?"

"You have a little blood." He tapped his lower lip and sat beside me. "Right here."

…X…

"Are you okay?" he asked me, handing me some hot coffee. I frowned.

"Stop asking me that!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm worried."

He lowered himself beside me in front of the fire. I sipped my coffee and sighed.

"How's your face?"

"Hm? Oh, Okay." He touched the large Band-Aid pad he had covered it with tenderly. "It still stings, but its not as bad as it looked."

"I'm glad." I drunk more coffee, Ryou played idly with the end of his hair.

"What would you like to do tomorrow, Marik?"

I shrugged and let my head fall back onto the edge of the sofa. "I dunno… London eye?"

"Hm. Okay. Sounds good." He scratched his nose thoughtfully. "Also, would you like to go to Madame Tussards?"

"The crazy wax place?"

"Yah."

I smiled. "I like the sound of that."

He grinned, pleased, and pulled his knees up to his chest.

It was at that moment, the unspoken agreement was made. It was in that moment, I knew that I had to repay him. I cleared my throat.

"So, uh, Ryou?"

"Mm?"

"When would you like to come to Egypt?"

"I was thinking July."

"…" I was surprised he had already decided a date. Had he been thinking this for a longer time than I had been aware? I shook myself and raised the mug to my lips once more.

"Yeah. Okay. July will be fine."

* * *

><p>So yeah. That's part one for you.<p>

Please excuse the punchuation. I may have gotten a wee bit semi-colon happy, because I beta-d it myself and Microsoft word kept demanding I insert them in seemingly arbitrary places and I was like 'lol, whatever.' and did.

also, the moonhopper referance in the warnings was irrelevant. i just WANT ONE SO BAD!


	2. Cairo

HOLY FUCKING SHITFUCK! O.o

As I am writing this I am sitting in the lounge watching this mental arse movie about crazed zombie things in a mental institution. Theres this drug called orpheum or something, I have no fucking clue what this movie is called, but some chick just had her arm eaten and im fucking terrified shitless.

Oh my god, im going to not sleep for a month.

Im not sure I want to be a psychotherapist anymore.

Someone fetch me my zombie whacking stick and tinfoil hat. If anyone wants me I will be in my sofa fort with several cans of beans and my paranoia for company.

Oh god I need some fluff right now. MAKE THE ARM EATING STOP!

Im gunna hurl.

* * *

><p>His little pink tongue stroked the surface if the ice cream languidly, missing a trail that snaked down his wrist to the crease in his elbow.<p>

"You missed a spot." I pointed it out and he paused his steady licks to gaze at the ice cream thoughtfully, before shrugging and resuming the eating if his sweet.

"Ryou, here. Let me take that and you can wipe it off."

I reached for his cone but he pouted and held it out of the way.

"Na-uh. You'll eat it!"

The heat of the July sun was heavenly. It kissed my skin affectionately; it filled me with the warmth of home. No breeze shifted the endless sand before us, and the sky was the perfect clear blue of lapis lazuli. And he had taken to wearing nothing but singlet tops and mini shorts of late.

Yes, life was good.

"I will not eat it. Give it over and clean yourself up."

Reluctantly, Ryou relinquished the ice cream and I passed him a serviette from the table. A waiter swept up to us and smiled kindly.

"What will you have?"

"I will have a coffee please. And he will have some tea and a Danish, if you have any."

With a nod the man left, and I returned my attention to my guest, who was sitting staring at me with raised eyebrows and a sweet little expression on his face.

"Arabic…"

"yes." I scratched my nose to hide my blush and passed him back his ice cream cone. "Of course."

"It's nice." A bright smile, he took the sweet back and crumpled the serviette he had used to clean up in one hand, before casting it carelessly onto the table. "Flowy…"

"hm." I smiled and tilted my head to the side, studying him.

The sun had not been so kind on his pale skin. He'd only been here a few days and already the faint red of sunburn lighted on his cheeks. His warm coffee eyes were hidden behind large reflective lenses, and the thin white shoulders on which the straps of a loose blue and white singlet hung were slathered with almost a whole bottle of sun block. His lips were chapped, but seemed to always be curved into a pleasant smile. And his legs in small black shorts seemed to never end. They were just long beautiful whiteness, and everywhere we went he got stares from the men and women around. And everywhere we went his only one complaint was the same.

"It's very hot here."

But he was doing much better here than I did in London. Maybe he just naturally shared his father's enthusiasm for the desert sands.

"What would you like me to show you next then?" I asked, shifting the weight in my seat and letting my arms drop to the table. My bangles clinked on the glass surface and I thought again how nice it was to be able to wear my normal clothes. The outfit I had had to wear in England was not only unflattering but it was damned inconvenient. This was much better.

"Hm… I dunno." He finished his ice cream and sucked his finger thoughtfully. "You know, I showed you all round London didn't i?"

"Yeah…"

"And I pointed out places where I was born, and we went on a daytrip out to the country?"

"You want to go out into the desert?"

He shook his head, soft white hair fluffing in his face. "No… I was just… well…"

"What is it?" I smiled and reached for his hand across the table. He allowed me to take it, no complaints.

"Well, I was wondering if you could show me the tomb? Where you grew up… of course if you don't want to-"

"Don't be dumb, Ryou, of course I can show you."

His face lit up and I squeezed his hand. "Yay! Thank you! Wait until I tell dad."

"Of course." I looked away from him when the waiter returned with our drinks. He clapped his hands in delight when he saw there was a danish and I was struck by how different he was here to when he was in England.

In England he was confident, calm and sweet natured. Here he was excited, boisterous. Like a kid in a sweet store. It was hard to tell which Ryou I preferred, actually. Maybe I liked them both.

"When can we go?"

"As soon as we have finished this. Sound good?"

"Sounds great!" he lifted his Danish to his mouth and took a big bite. I looked at him over the rim of my coffee mug.

Such a sweet, sweet boy.

...x...

Ryou laced his arm with mine, holding me loosely and staring in awe at the scene around us. Wide eyes, barely visible behind his lenses, scanned the horizon line, small pink lips parted in disbelief, his footing in the warm sand was unsure but he managed.

"It's so…"

"So what?" I guided him over, heading toward the crooked shapes of broken stone pillars silhouetted against the setting sun. The temperature was dropping, and a faint breeze stirred my hair. Sand swept around my bare feet and his sandals flicked arcs of it behind us, but our steps made no sound. The whole place was eerily silent.

"Breathtaking."

"It is, kind of. Yes." I pointed to the west, where the shimmering dark shapes of the pyramids and the city seemed to melt into the distance. The setting sun was huge, an orange glow seeping across the desert. "Look. Can you see the birds?"

He had to pause and remove his glasses to squint at the soaring, dipping shapes on the horizon. Small black forms circling in the distance. He nodded and slipped his glasses into his pocket.

"This place is insane." His soft whisper echoed off ruined stone walls and small dunes. I felt his grip on my arm tighten.

"Don't be intimidated, they are just ruins."

"I can't believe this used to be a temple." We passed by a jumbled pile of blocks, once upon a time those massive chunks of rocks would have been a regal wall, but now they were cracked and crumbling, worn smooth in places by the sand shifting against them. The ghost of hieroglyphs were still faintly visible on the surface. I shrugged, noticing distantly that beneath my feet sand was turning to ancient paved stones as we approached the former heart of the place. He tripped over a crack, but caught his balance smoothly and easily. I loosed his arm from mine and wandered over to a fallen pillar by the entrance.

"Hey Ryou, come here."

"Huh? Oh, right oh." Wrapping his arms around himself, he approached and crouched so he could see the thing I was pointing at better. "What am I looking at?"

"This pillar talks about the house of the Ishtars, and the duty of the eldest son to guard the tomb for eternity." I gestured to a line of hieroglyphs and his eyes widened. Reaching fingers brushed the craved stone, dipping into grooves and tracing the shapes.

"Amazing… which one are you?"

"I'm not on here… but this is my family name." I pointed out the symbols and he leaned in closer, trying to get a decent look in the low light. "And this is the millennium rod."

"Ah! I see it! Yes." He grinned excitedly and placed his palm flat on the stone. "Oh wow…"

"Better than snow huh?" I leaned in and whispered in his ear. His response was a small snort of amusement, and I had to move my face when he stood so we wouldn't collide.

"It's a little different from snow."

"Yah, not so cold and unpleasant."

"You just aren't used to snow."

"And you are used to the heat like this?" we began walking again, side by side. I could see by the slope of his shoulders and the exaggerated swing of his hips he was growing tired today, his motions were becoming much looser and liquid, as though he didn't have enough energy to hold himself together.

"It wears me out a little."

I smiled and held out my arm, which he took gratefully.

"I can see. You look tired."

"Mmm."

"I'm sure it would be okay for you to stay with me tonight."

"Oh, that's really okay. I can take a cab."

"No cabs in the middle of the desert, silly. You will need to walk if you want to go back to your hotel. There are snakes."

Even in the almost complete darkness, I could see his face Blanche and his eyes widen at the mention of snakes and creepy crawly things.

A weak "oh." I pulled him closer.

"Don't worry, its honestly not a problem. My sister will know you are staying."

He laughed and let his head loll onto my shoulder. "I'm sure she will."

We were almost there now, approaching the stairs to my home beneath the sand. The sun was gone completely, dipped beneath the edge of the earth, but the heat still lingered, and the moon glowed silver above us.

The stairs sinking down beneath the earth were dark and gaping, lit by lamps that Ishizu must have lit when she saw we were coming. I removed one from the bracket and together we descended, the sound of his sandals slapping the stone echoing in the space. His breathing was shallow, and his grip was tight. I frowned.

"Ryou, you don't need to be scared. I'm here."

"No, I know that…" he looked behind us, back up to the sky visible through the mouth of the entrance. "It's just… I'm afraid of the dark."

"oh." I gazed around. It wasn't so dark; the orange light from the lamps threw small pools of light onto our path. Perhaps it was the inky blackness around the edge of the light that was making him so nervous. The gaping doorways off the stairway to other underground parts of the temple. I passed him my lamp and he took it thankfully.

"Don't worry… you'll get used to it."

"I hope."

We walked the rest of the way in silence, reaching the passage six metres below the surface and turning left, descending more stairs and continuing downward, into the subterranean land I called home. Ancient paintings leered from the walls, they were a little imposing, I supposed, and the dusty smell of history itself made the air dry and heavy.

"Okay, Ryou?" I asked as we approached my chambers. He nodded, staring in awe at the walls. Flame light lit his face, sharpening his features, a golden glow shimmered on the surface of his skin.

"Marik… I cant believe I'm here."

I shrugged. "It's just… normal for me, I guess."

We had reached the chambers. I pushed aside the gauze curtains and we stepped into the space. He gasped.

Tapering pillars, fifteen feet in height, supported the ceiling. Massive statues of pharaohs and Ishtars past loomed out of the darkness, the sound of cats dining on the food Ishizu had left there was all to be heard.

"Marik! How far.. what… where are we?"

"The temple room… about forty metres below the desert. Not to deep here."

"Not to… what?"

"Come on, the living rooms are through here." I headed off across the space toward the doorway at the far side. The air down here was cooler, it was lighter too… I always did think that breathing here was a little harder, my chest always felt slightly wider and the air particles slightly further apart. "Hurry. And watch out for the cats."

"Coming, coming!" his clumsy run was deafening. Slap, slap, slap, his shoes on the stones. When he reached me, he was panting.

"Quiet, you will scare them." Reaching down, I picked a small grey kitten from the ground and scratched behind its ears. The animal purred and nuzzled my chest.

"Right, sorry." He looked at his feet and I touched his cheek affectionately.

"It's okay, come on."

Ryou seemed surprised that my living chambers were equally as dim and stony. I made him soup over a flame, spicy and sweet and he ate it ravenously without a word. It was obvious, his discomfort. No pillows or sofas down here, just wooden benches and a few down cushions. It was very cute, actually, watching him try and get comfy on the floor.

"Un-used to this, hm?" In London Ryou's apartment had been focused entirely on being snug and cosy. Squishy sofas, pillows and throws and carpet you sunk to your ankles in. it was different to the simple way of life I had. Tomb keeping wasn't glamorous, and yes, I was glad I had a sister to share the responsibility with. It meant that occasionally I was able to go out and indulge in modern comfort. Yet still… sparse living had a strange ironic place in my heart. It was what I knew best.

"It's… weird." He gazed around the square room. I laughed.

"Would you like a bath?"

"You have plumbing?" he was genuinely shocked.

"… of a sort."

"That would be amazing."

…X…

"fuck Marik it's COLD!"

The temple bath house was large, above a window gave view of the moon, and silver lit the surface of lukewarm water below. Pool sized, with lotus floating lazily on the surface, the bath was a pleasantly cool place, and for the boy unused to fourteen degree baths it must have been like ice. I shrugged and kicked my feet lazily in the water.

"It's nice. On a hot day."

"It's freezing!"

"No, you're just a wimp." Grinning slightly, I splashed him and he backed away. Waist deep, arms around his chest and shivering, Ryou scowled at me. His hair fell almost to his waist now, it had grown a lot since December, and the tips were brushing the surface of the water as he lowered himself in.

"Don't look at me! I'm trying to bathe."

"Sorry, sorry." I stood up and stretched, still peering at him out of the corner of my eye. I had decided against a bath. I had one this morning, and besides, it was late. I was tired. Ishizu was around, I hadn't seen her since I had been home but the clean towels on the bath side showed she had been by in anticipation. I made a note to thank her.

"Well, I'm going to bed. There's a spare bed in my room. Come through when you are done."

He grunted, now submerged up to his nose, hair fanning out behind him on the surface of the water and glowing in the moonlight. With one last look, in which I tried to drink in as much of him as I possibly could, I exited the room and wandered through into my sleeping chamber. I think that as connoisseur of comfort, Ryou would like my room a lot.

Another glassless window to the sky again, no lamps coloured the fluttering cloth of my bed curtains orange, instead they glowed filmy ghostly white and swayed silently in time with the breath of the earth. I undressed and pulled the curtains apart, crawling onto my double bed, wooden framed and decked with a mattress of down and feather, and slipping between the fine cotton sheets. It really was getting cool now, so I drew the down comforter up over me too, before unclipping my earrings and removing my jewellery, casting it onto the shelf above my bed.

Half sleep claimed me; I drifted in and out of consciousness to the wet sound of Ryou bathing next door and the barely audible swish of my curtains. The sweet smell of lotus and cool water tempted my senses, and I sighed, content.

From far away, I heard him rise out of the water. Silent footsteps over stone, the rustle of curtains being pulled apart.

"Marik?"

"Mmm?" I raised my head and cracked open my eyes.

"Where is my bed?"

"Over there." I buried my face in my mattress again and gestured loosely to the smaller bed, about the size of a single, close to the door. He was silent for a bit, before I felt a weight beside me and heard an irritated click of the tongue.

"There are no blankets."

"You don't need any. It's warm."

"It's not! I'm cold after that bath."

Groaning, I sat up and looked at him. I had to double take. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

Opulent skin, still damp and cool, he held his towel like a women around his body, one elegant hand clutching it to his chest. His eyes, long lashed and lowered bashfully, rested on my face, his hair was wet and clung to his shoulders in long shining tendrils. I noticed a dark blush spread across his cheeks.

"What?"

"Well, what I'm saying it… er, what I'm trying to ask…" the blush became more extreme, he looked away. "canIsleepwithyou." He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for my answer. My stomach dropped and I had to pause my thoughts, think over the hurried words he had just said to make sure I hadn't misheard. I didn't think I had.

"Can you sleep with me?"

He nodded and drew the towel up to his mouth. The bottom hem rose, revealing a plane of milky thigh.

"Yes!"

I wondered if I came across to enthusiastically for a moment, his expression was surprised and wide eyed. But then he laughed and shuffled around, pushing back my blankets and hopping in next to me. When he pulled up the sheets to cover his lower half I couldn't help see the rise of the towel, my eyes ran up the side of his hip and it was obvious he wore nothing beneath.

When he was covered, he removed the towel and dried his hair quickly, before flopping backward beside me and sighing.

"It smells nice in here."

"Uh, yeah."

All I could smell was him. Sweet clean cool skin, a shivery spine tingling scent. I bit my lip and he turned his head to look at me.

"Hey, Marik?"

"Yeah?" my voice shook. I shied away a little, hiding behind a sheet. His hand pushed the sheet away. He leaned in closer.

"I'm glad you came to see me in December."

Unsure what to say, I told the truth.

"I am too."

"I didn't know you so well. I was surprised to see you. I thought you'd never want to talk to me."

"Why wouldn't i?"

"My Yami was a jerk…"

"So was mine."

"I was embarrassed you had to meet me in that state."

"I didn't think you would remember me."

"Don't be stupid, Marik. I remember everything." Ryou bit his lip. "It was like watching a movie, I was helpless but I was there. And I had to watch what happened to you; I recognised a lot of my self in you."

"You did?"

"and it was scary, I just… I wanted…" he trailed off, his hand reaching for my face. "I liked you Marik. A lot."

"Are you sure it wasn't my Yami?"

"I'm sure. I remember watching you and the thief king fighting your Yami. I remember watching you fade away. I was there."

"…"

"I'm very glad that you can know me now too."

We were nose to nose. His eyes, huge and dark and endless, full of gentle emotion that left me tasting sweetness in my mouth, drilled into mine. I let mine fall shut, my heart began fluttering, and I leaned forward and kissed him, pressing my lips to his.

And cautiously, carefully, he kissed me back.

We parted , breathing heavy though our kiss was only short and light, and I opened my eyes. His were still closed; he drew a deep shaky breath and leaned in again. I accepted his kiss with parted lips this time, and the tip of his tongue probed my mouth. I let him.

Thin arms wound around my shoulders, I held his waist and pulled him close. His skin on mine was soft and delicious. Like silk.

"Ah, Marik." He pulled back and pressed his forehead to mine.

"Mm?"

"you're so warm."

Nuzzling my neck, the man relaxed, I kissed the crown of his head and combed my fingers through his damp hair. He laughed.

"Thanks, if I leave it. It will tangle."

"We cant have that, can we." I gave him a squeeze and continued my combing. Soon, he fell asleep, and before I joined him I lay there for a while, studying his face, listening to his breath, and letting my self fall for him more and more with every beat of the heart in my chest.

* * *

><p>Okay guys. That's it. I had trouble trying to think of mariks home. I mean, its not exactly described in the manga, is it? Nej… not that I have noticed, so I used the old creative licence there. Halfway through this I started wondering 'who the fuck lives in a temple below the desert in this modern age?" but then I remembered that these characters come from an anime in which the fate of all mankind depend on a little boy with pink hair winning cardgames, and decided that actually it did make sense. If you squinted and stood back a few feet. Besides, marik DOES end up going back to the desert to act as tomb keeper in the end, if a I recall correctly, ergo he must go back to the weird ass little hole in the desert he grew up in. (look it up. Im sure he does. Somewhere along the line some stuff about releasing the other tombkeepers comes in there too. Kyahh… I don't care.)<p>

Yes, I am trying to justify this shit to myself as well as you. It makes no sense to me either…

Ho hum.

Okay. Story is over. Go away now.

Oh, for those of you who are interested…

ZOMBIE STATUS: have acquired large amount of chocolate and a large stick. Has locked self in room. Should be fine.


End file.
